


Loving The Lost

by baberainbow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, It still Hurts, M/M, Steve is OOC but it's Canon Now, unfortunately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:35:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baberainbow/pseuds/baberainbow
Summary: Bucky swallows another lump in his throat. He won’t sob. He won’t.“Are you doing this because I...because I left you? Because I fell off the train? Because I went back into cryostasis? Do you want me to feel it? Feel how it hurts?”Steve turns and breathes, “No. God, no. Buck.”“Then why?” he won’t face Steve. A tear streams down his face, so he wipes it with the sleeve of his shirt. “Why?”---Bucky tries to convince Steve to stay. Or at least know why Steve wants to go. Because, till the end, Steve is a stubborn man.





	Loving The Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Saw Endgame yesterday, and never have I been so disappointedly saddened by an ending. Those last five minutes changed how I feel about Captain America. I'm still processing it. I wrote this to help. Sorry.

Bucky closes the door behind him. The Stark household has plenty of bedrooms to hold the guests; Steve’s occupying one of them. Bucky’s sleeping on one of the couches in the living room, but he comes here to change and dress.

That’s not why he’s here now. 

“You’re going back aren’t you,” he says without any pause. It’s not a question. More of a resignation...just a need for confirmation. He’s not in the mood to shoot the shit. He needs to hear it. 

Steve looks up then away, not meeting Bucky’s gaze. He’d been packing up his clothes on the bed; he’s probably trying to make it easier to clean up his stuff. 

Bucky stares at him, feeling his eyes start to sting. His jaw is clenched, and his fists are bunched into his pockets. “You’re gonna go back. And stay. Right?” 

He swallows the lump in his throat and waits for Steve to just admit it. 

“Buck,” he starts, but Bucky then shakes his head. 

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to know. 

_You’re going to leave me right after you got me back?_

Steve finally meets his eyes. The fire, the righteous conviction and passion so often aflame in his eyes is dim. The whites of his eyes are pink. 

“Are you mad?” Steve says instead. 

Bucky’s head thumps against the door. “I don’t know.” 

He wants to know what’s changed in Steve Rogers. Bucky has been gone for five years...so much more time taken from them. Who has his friend become? 

“Well, time is not on my side, is it?” Bucky croaks. “It seems every time we finally come together, one of us leaves.” 

Steve pats the side of the bed next to where he’s sitting. Bucky shoves the duffle bag to the ground and sits against the headboard. Steve moves and sits by his side. They stare at the door. 

“If it’s that...if you want something from her that you think I can’t, no _won’t_ give you, you've never asked to see if I would.” 

Steve shakes his head and sighs. “It’s not just that, Buck.” 

“Then tell me.” 

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “I’m tired, Buck. I want to go back to her. See what could have been.” 

Bucky’s eyes burn. He swipes at them. “Have you told Sam? Anyone?” 

“No,” Steve says. There’s a quiet pause. “How did you figure it out?” 

Bucky shrugs. “I just know. The second you offered to return the Stones, I just knew it. I knew what you would do.” 

Steve chuckles softly. “You always did know me better than anyone, Buck.” 

Bucky frowns. “You have a family, Steve. Here. Now. People who love you. They’ve just lost two family members. Natasha. Tony. What are we gonna do without you?” 

Steve’s hand clenches at the sheets of the bed. “I don’t know.” 

Bucky swallows another lump in his throat. He won’t sob. He won’t. 

“Are you doing this because I...because I left you? Because I fell off the train? Because I went back into cryostasis? Do you want me to feel it? Feel how it hurts?” 

Steve turns and breathes, “No. God, no. Buck.” 

“Then why?” he won’t face Steve. A tear streams down his face, so he wipes it with the sleeve of his shirt. “Why?” 

Steve’s face is blank, stoic. “I love her. I’ve thought of the dance I owed her ever since I woke up outta the ice. Always wanting to know what could have been. And I would visit her sometimes before she passed. She was so confused at times. I saw photos of her family. She led such a life, Buck. And she said to me, that all we can do is start over. Now, I can.” 

“If you go back, you can’t change anything. Banner said it would mess up the present. How are you gonna…” then he pauses. “You’re gonna sit by?” He stands from the bed, suddenly furious. He has to restrain himself from punching the wall. “You’re gonna just let it all happen? Knowing what you know?” 

Steve wipes a tear from his own face. “If that’s the cost.” 

The words jab him in the heart. 

“Who are you?” Bucky croaks. “I don’t know you, do I?” He tastes the bitterness of the words, the fear swelling his chest. 

“You wouldn’t know, huh?” Steve says, voice thick. “You didn’t have to deal with what I did.” 

“Because I fucking couldn’t. I didn’t ask to vanish, Steve.” 

“Five years is a long time, Buck. Fuck, after we lost, something in me just changed.” 

“Then tell me about it,” Bucky pleads, sitting on the side of the bed. “We can figure it out.” 

Steve shakes his head. “There’s nothing to figure out. I had to move on from losing you, Sam, Wanda...everyone. You can do the same for me.” 

Bucky scrubs at his cheeks, the salt of tears itching his skin. “I love you,” he chokes out. “I always have.” 

“Then you’ll let me go,” Steve says. “Please.” 

Steve grabs his hand and strokes his thumb over Bucky’s knuckles. The touch burns Bucky’s skin. He wants to imprint that feeling deep into his skin, into his memory if this is the last time Steve will touch him like this. 

“Do you love me, too?” Bucky demands instead. “At least tell me that.” 

Steve licks his lips and nods. “Yes.” 

“No. _Say it._ I need to hear it,” Bucky grits through his teeth. The cords of his neck coil tight, and his upper lip quivers. He wants to hear it, so he can replay it in his head. In his memory. Something dear and precious to remember...something no machine could ever burn out of his head. 

Steve squeezes his hand. “I’ve loved you for so long, Buck.” 

“Then stay.” Steve sits up, and Bucky unconsciously moves to be closer to him. Their foreheads rest against each other, their noses slotted side by side. “Then don’t do this to us.” Their lips are close; he can feel Steve's heavy breath against his lips. He wants to kiss that mouth. That goddamn, stubborn mouth. "Please, Steve. Don't make me beg." 

Steve shakes his head again. “This is my choice.” 

Bucky finally whimpers out loud, and it comes bubbling from his chest. A vicious sob pulls deep from him, and his heart breaks. Steve moves to hold him, but he shoves him away. “I’ll never get to have you, huh? We can never,” he starts, then stops to heave a shaky breath, “We can never be.” 

He wants to lash out at Steve: ask if he’s going back to Peggy because he’s never seen her the way he’s seen Bucky. Steve never saw Peggy broken. Steve never saw Peggy vulnerable. That he’s just conjured up an imaginary Peggy in his mind that feeds his desires and longing for the past. Who does Steve think he is, to go back and change _her_ life?

“No,” Steve says, finally. 

Bucky sags his shoulders. Steve reaches for him again, but Bucky still avoids his hold. 

His teeth are chattering. His heart is dropping.

They both share the space in silence as Bucky wipes at his face, and Steve stares at his hands folded in his lap. 

Bucky sighs. “I want you to be happy.” He looks at Steve. “Promise me that. Promise me you’ll be happy.” 

Steve nods his head. 

Bucky knows promises like that aren’t realistic. One cannot predict emotions of the future, or in this case, the past. 

“Will you think of me?” The gears of his arm shift as his fingernails dig into his palms. “I mean, if you go back to her and you don't change anything...you’ll know that I’ll be in HYDRA’s control. That I'm going to do cruel things. But will you think of me, at least?” 

“Everyday,” Steve whispers. “If we have kids, I’ll name them after you.” 

_Kids. Something Bucky could never give him._ The Steve he knew never cared for fatherhood. Things must have really changed. Irreparably. 

They stay in silence for another moment. Bucky wipes at his nose and eyes one last time. “This is the end of the line, isn’t it?” 

Steve looks at him, and finally, his eyes are gleaming. “Yeah, Buck. This is.” 

Bucky nods, resigned. He shows himself out. 

That night, on the couch, he stares at the ceiling. Sam’s sleeping on the couch by his, sound asleep. Clueless to what is going to transpire tomorrow. He figures Steve will leave Sam the Shield. Probably before he leaves. Because there will be no after. 

The only thought that soothes his shattered heart is the hope that Steve will come back. He blinks some tears out of his eyes and tries to fall asleep.


End file.
